


What Makes Me, Me

by anyothergirl415



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-25
Updated: 2009-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-26 22:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyothergirl415/pseuds/anyothergirl415
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A serious of moments in Sam’s life where things were just a little too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Makes Me, Me

**Author's Note:**

> 30 NaNo Shots 2009 - Prompt: Wither

Sam was never sure why he was woken late at night by the empty spot next to him. Dean should have been there. But most times Sam could find him standing by the window, fingers pressed against the glass and – of all oddities – crying.

He was never sure why Dean’s tears unsettled him so. After all, this was his brother, his lover. He should have been there for him. He should relate. He should understand.

But instead he was cursed with the fear of confrontation. Or the reality that those tears could be a direct result of his actions.

Sam was never sure how he would handle that.

Instead he muttered a sleepy, “You okay?”

And in turn received a tear laced, “M’fine.”

Then Sam would nod, run a hand through sleep rumbled hair and rolled over on the bed.

Dean listened to the man shift back to sleep and the tears streamed harder.

He was never granted comfort and he was not even sure he wanted it.

-=-=-=-

It was one of those mornings with the perfect kind of sunrise. They grey dawn was not bitter chilly – or maybe it was but Sam didn’t really mind. Not with the warmth of Dean lined against his body and all cold was easily forgotten. The flap of their tent was open just a crack and Sam could see out.

He’d been so happy when Dean had agreed to go camping.

His eyes watched – remembering this moment – as the ground changed from dull shades of grey black to a faint pink orange red combination. Dean stirred and shifted against his body in a pleasant sort of way. Sam couldn’t fight the urge to smile.

His eyes drifted close once more as he fought off the sunrise a little longer.

-=-=-=-

He was always eating. Whenever they were just about to have a serious conversation Dean would go grab a sandwich or some other item and it continued to dig at Sam’s nerves.

But, the man had to admit there were good things about food. For instance, whipped cream. Sam could stand whipped cream.

Especially if sprayed across his skin, making a meaningless pattern he could one day trace over with his tongue. An odd, steady perfection he hoped to get down just right.

Or, chocolate syrup, with just the right swirling motion made the whipped cream a delicious mix. Sam definitely enjoyed that.

What he liked most was the way Dean writhed under him, tortured by his tongue taking precious time to carve the lines of his length, slowly sucking in the generous amount of flavored spectacular.

Sam liked to teach Dean that there were some occasions where food was necessary, Dean just needed to learn the right ones.

-=-=-=-

Sam watched the water circle spiral down the sink to the drain and felt his heart clench. The motion pulled him startlingly fast into a time and a place that wasn’t here. A soft, nearly tender moment when his fingers ran in circles along Dean’s chest.

When they were both still basking in their aftermath and it felt like nothing could hurt them. Not ever. The water rushing, its continually circular movement, sent something far too emotional through him and his knees went momentarily weak.

Quickly he moved to the table to sit in a chair. The image of Dean danced through his mind and tears pricked along his eyes.


End file.
